


Cold Coffee

by CariadRose



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dominant Kylo Ren, F/M, Fluff, Modern Era, Protective Kylo Ren, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26257543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CariadRose/pseuds/CariadRose
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Cold Coffee

The air was surprisingly warm for the time of year, the setting sun bleeding through the gaps in the clouds.

Soft rays bounced off your face as you revelled in the sensation. You felt the warmth flow through you as you inhaled softly, the sweet autumn air filling your lungs. Pulling your hand from your pocket and sneaking it into Kylo’s felt natural, something that scared you. Men didn’t often pay you attention, certainly not men like Kylo, but here you were for all of New York to see.

Taking a chance, you glanced through your lashes and saw his eyebrows pull together slightly, a light blush coating his cheeks. A shy smile spread across your face as you moved closer, your head leaning against his leather clad upper arm. You often wished you were just that little bit taller so that you could rest your head on his shoulder, but this would have to do.

A kiss to the top your head pulled you out of your thoughts. “You know, I spend too much time wondering where you go when you have that look on your face.” Kylo muttered softly, his voice low and muffled by your hair. Warmth spread through your chest at his words. As you pulled away you to look at him, you lifted your free hand to his face. A contented hum radiated from him as you ran your fingers across his cheekbone softly, tracing the constellation of freckles that dusted his skin. Would his beauty ever stop astounding you? You didn’t think so. “You. There’s very rarely a moment where you aren’t on my mind.” While the admission was true, you weren’t sure how Kylo would react. Things were good right now but affection wasn’t exactly a strong point if Kylo’s. You bit your lip nervously in anticipation for his reply. His only response was a small smile that danced on his lips. He gently pulled your hand away from his cheek and pressed it to his lips briefly before he began walking again. You hadn’t even registered that your feet had stopped moving, but Kylo often had that effect on you. You knew that your brief moment of tranquility was over as the noises of New York captured his attention once more.

“Where are we going?” you asked as Kylo pulled you into a side street. You couldn’t say that knew New York very well. After all, you had only been here a few months, most of which had been spent split between work and Kylo. The mixture of the two didn’t leave much time to breathe, let alone explore the big city. “Home.” He answered softly, much to your confusion. You both knew that your home was some distance away, and from the direction and lack of travel items, you somehow doubted you were heading to an airport. Nonetheless you humoured him and allowed him to continue pulling you through the busy, lowly lit streets.

After a while a of walking and leaving the New York you recognised behind, Kylo came to a stop in front of a small building. It was bland, the brickwork old and crumbling away. You knew that if you were walking down the street alone you wouldn’t have paid the small sign a second thought, ‘Storybook Nook’ it read. A gasp escaped through your red lips, numb from the sudden cold as you allowed yourself to finally take in the view. Your hand slid from Kylo’s grasp, your body yelling in protest as the fresh air nipped at your exposed skin. As you made your way to the glass display window, your eyes lit up in the reflection of the shops warm glow. The glass fogged up as your nose pressed against it lightly, your hands framing the window beside your head in awe. “Do you like it?” You didn’t answer straight away, the vulnerability in his voice taking you by surprise. You exhaled slowly, still reveling in the beauty of the bookshop. A soft laugh left you, your hands still stroking the glass lightly, cautious, as if applying too much pressure would shatter the moment. “It’s perfect, Kylo.” you replied, finally looking back at him.

Your breath hitched in your throat. The knitted winter hat that he wore was now clutched tightly in his hand; his perfectly disheveled hair framed his face messily, strands falling out of place as though he had been running his hands through it anxiously, a very plausible explanation. The cold had caused his skin to flush, a pink tinge coating his cheeks and nose, his lips parted and pink as if begging you to cover them with your own. With the soft glow of the bookshop illuminating him, you knew Kylo would be the death of you, and what a welcome death it would be. His hand jumped to his hair and you were suddenly conscious or your gawping. You opened your mouth to say something to put him at ease but words escaped you. Instead, you turned yourself back to the window to once again bathe in astonishment.

After a moment of silence, Kylo took the lead and moved to open the door for you, his hand engulfing the small doorknob. The soft tinkle of the bell awoke the dormant butterflies in your stomach and you wondered if you could even remember the last time you were in a bookshop. The familiar smell of old leather and musky parchment paper surrounded you, your body instantly relaxing at the familiarity. Kylo’s hand reached out and settled on the small of your back as you took in your surroundings. The light seemed so much warmer and softer once you were inside, reflecting off the endless rows of mahogany bookcases. They were old and antique, just like the building itself and the books they held. A round wooden table was visible in the far left hand of the room surrounded by large, plush looking velvet chairs and a quaint fireplace. The mismatched furniture was soft and inviting, you knew you could easily waste days curled up in their arms. You wondered briefly where Kylo had found this place. You would never have imagined that New York could hide such a beautiful secret.

You struggled to take everything in as you made your way down the seemingly endless aisles of books, running your hands along their spines, just as you had done as a child. You stopped occasionally when you saw a work that piqued your interest but you were yet to find anything you were willing to commit to. Kylo had trailed behind you at first, keeping his distance as though he was worried to interrupt your thoughts and bring you back to reality. You subconsciously noticed when he drifted wordlessly to the back of the building after a while, towards what you could only assume was the seating area you saw as you entered, but you were still too occupied to ask him to stay. Your fingers stopped as it ran across a familiar title ‘1984- George Orwell’. You couldn’t count the times you had read this particular book, always coming back to it when you found a moment to yourself. It was one of the first books you had read voluntarily. It wasn’t an easy read, but none of the best books were. You plucked it off the shelf, the bright red cover staring back at you as held it firmly between your hands, navigating your way to the small fireplace and chairs.

Next to the fire, the light reflecting off his raven locks and glasses alike, sat Kylo. One hand propped onto his knee holding his chin, the other prying open a book. You had only seen Kylo read once or twice, but the sight was always marvelous, his eyebrows knitted together with thought and the top half of his hair tied up in an attempt to stop the loose strands falling into his face. As if he could hear your thoughts, his eyes flickered up to you and a smile grew on his face. His book snapped shut. His fingers waved you forward and he patted his lap softly, a silent invitation. Your breath once again caught as you imagined the intimacy of the action. Your gaze dropped to the floor, finding patterns in the worn down hard wood in an attempt to conceal your reddened cheeks. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Kylo cock his eyebrow, silently urging you to argue, an amused smile dancing on his lips.

As your back pressed against his warm chest, his chin found a place on your shoulder, face buried in the crook of your neck. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine and your toes curled at the sensation. A hand pulled your hair off your shoulder, pushing it all aside and exposing your bare skin. Kylo placed a slow kiss to your neck. “What did you pick, My Love?” he murmured, barely audible as his lips still caressed your neck. You snuggled into him closer, forgoing his question and leaning the back of your head into his shoulder, taking in the familiar scent of wood and leather. “Hmm?” he prompted when you didn’t reply.  
“Orwell.” You breathed back, lifting the book up and into his eye line. “Mmm, Good choice,” He cooed. “Read to me.” His voice was so quiet that you were sure you had misheard him. Reading seemed like such a couple like task to do together, a notion you were sure Kylo would disapprove of given his reluctance to label whatever it was that was going on between you. “Read to you?” you repeated, the words sounding foreign in your throat. He gave no verbal response but you felt him nod slowly into your neck, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire. You had no valid reason not to, so after a pause you opened the book and began to read. Your voice remained low as not to disturb the quiet atmosphere. The words flowed smoothly from your tongue, dancing together to create the perfect illustration in your minds. As time passed, Kylo drifted to the back of your mind and you imagined yourself at home in the study, the smell of your mothers baking filling the air and the sounds of your sister laughing loudly down the hall. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed but the low light of the setting sun was long gone and the fire was dwindling. You felt Kylo stir behind you, his hand loosening on your waist. “Are you ok?” you whispered, unsure if he was even awake. In response, Kylo jostled you gently, so that the side of your cheek was flush against his shoulder, your feet dangling over the side of the chair laid vertically across him. His warm honey brown eyes bore into you with such intensity and security that you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth to stop the whimper that was battling to escape, nerves racing through your veins. 

His breath was hot on your face, the familiar mixture of coffee and vanilla dulling your senses. “You make me feel warm.” He sighed, his nose pressed against your forehead and eyes tightly clamped shut. You smiled softly, tilting your head back until his nose touched yours. “You make me feel warm, too.” You breathed, wrapping your arm around his neck and running your fingers though his hair. Kylo shook his head softly. “Before you, I was blind. Always afraid of the sun and seeking the company of the moon. Running from happiness and blinded by fear. Before you, I was a mad man, frozen in time. You make me feel _warm_.” The words left his mouth in a gasp, as though he couldn’t fight the urge to hold them in any longer, as though he was choking on each letter as it was being formed.

You didn’t know what to say, words seemed to fail you. Instead, you placed a kiss on his forehead and settled back down into his chest, his slowing heart beat lulling you to sleep.

“How do you feel right now?” His voice was barely audible through the sleep like fog.

“Home, Kylo. I feel like I’m home.”


End file.
